


crossing boundaries

by ellipsesarefun



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Dreams, F/M, First Meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 20:55:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14386941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellipsesarefun/pseuds/ellipsesarefun
Summary: Maka tries Soul Perception and finds a potential partner.





	crossing boundaries

**Author's Note:**

> After 3,000 years I've finally finished this piece. Yea, it was once outlined and then left unwritten for three or five years ahaha but it's.. here.. Haven't had this betaed since I got so excited once I finished writing it XD
> 
> I'm not sure if this was already done several times, even better, but yea... this is.. what I got...  
> And I hope you enjoy it.

Soul Perception has always been a useful tool for a meister. Maka had heard several anecdotes from her mother and her mother's friends on how it was done, and none of them came close to a general path in training their own perception. Perception manifests in several manners. Some people have a combination of soul perception types, and some only had one. Her mother's aunt had openly bragged once how she spotted a kishin with her hypersensitive sense of smell. A professor once explained his soul perception through the vibrations of the materials around him. Maka has yet to discover her type.

 

She had only discovered that her abilities awake during her subconscious: in her dreams. There are moments when she felt a crowd of people in her room, alight with a wondrous image of colors, vibrant and alive. It only lasted for a few seconds at best and rarely does she remember the visions, merely the strange feeling that bloomed in her body when she woke up, as though she was once submerged in an ocean of entities.

 

At this hour, she sets her plan into motion. Like any other night, the house empty and the front door's locked. Maka expects her dad to come back a week or so after his manwhoring excursions and she has less expectations of her mother visiting her after years of lost contact. She closes the door to her room and saunters over to her desk to place the text books she recently bought for her upcoming classes next week. Once finished, she crosses her legs on the bed, waiting for something.

 

Nothing.

 

She takes a deep breath and exhales.

 

Still nothing.

 

Maybe she was doing this the wrong way. She careens her head towards the window, eyeing the empty streets of Death City. Lifting her gaze towards the sky, Maka eyes the moon that laughs and mocks under its own jurisdiction. She rears her head back to where she can see the edge of her bed and closes her eyes.

 

Breathe in. Breathe out.

 

Still nothing.

 

The deep breathing exercise continues, however, and as the time ticks by, a strange feeling blooms within her.

 

 

And then suddenly there was strong torrent of emotions. She could feel them, see them, spherically with a spectrum of colors, in shades of light and dark in each one of them. Her head spun around this panorama, dazzled by the immensity of her own perception. She instinctively reached out and took one in her hands. It was warm and when she held it against her chest, she could feel the synchronization of their heartbeats. She could feel him, whoever he was.

“Soul Eater Evans.” She uttered his name. Once. And her senses placed all focus on him.

Crimson. His pupils were crimson and he had soft, white-pillowed hair. How she knew, she’ll never know. Music flooded her ears, a deep, dark, symphony that clashed with those crimson eyes. Her senses fully locked in on him like there was a secret code between her and this mystery man. Without warning, she saw herself floating amidst a pitch black room, where a light was shown on the man named Soul Evans. Step by step, her heart thumping along, his fleshed phalanges swiftly danced from octave to octave, gradually increasing the pace of his symphony.

And the music stopped. All at once, the void was flooded with bright, chandelier lights. She was standing in a middle of a room, the walls as white as his hair and curtains as the color of his eyes. Soft couches appeared in all corners in the room, and a door, revealed itself right at the very end from where the piano faced. 

It must be the exit.

The man closed the piano and stood, turning his head at her while he did so. For a moment, no one spoke. In the silence, she took her time scrutinizing the boy. He seemed more of her age, born from a family of elite (as afar as her perception whispers answers in her mind). The boy, Soul, shuffled his feet about and fiddled with his piano fingers before she drew a large breath and took a step forward. The boy looked up from his hands with an unreadable expression.

“So, you must be Soul.” She began. His eyes narrowed, mirroring her usual mistrust towards certain people. 

“How the hell do you know my name.” For boy born from elite, he certainly lacks such manners.

“I… don’t know.” It wasn’t much of an answer, because how can she explain this perception to a mere stranger; a stranger who knows nothing of her kind, of her world. It did not appease the boy’s suspicions, only narrowed his eyes and his frown more prominently. 

“Is this… a dream?” He asked. Maka moved towards the couch and took a seat. She drew random swirls on the lush carpet, trying to keep her mind as calm as possible. There was no roundabout way in proceeding this dream-like state.

“It must be.” 

And then suddenly, the room changed. Swirling her vision as the room expands and the walls, curtains and furniture fade away. A swarm of people in masques fade in and surround them, and a chandelier above lights a spot on the two of them.

As the room finally stabilized, her gaze rests on Soul’s. She blinks, feeling her eyebrows touch her hairline, and elicits a gasp at swarm of people crowding in with masks on their faces. Her gaze trails down, speechless at the obsidian satin that fits through her hands to the ends of her forearms, and a dress that accompanies the same color hung until her knees. She turns to him again, teeth gnawing at the bottom of her lip. 

He smiles and offers his hand. “I don’t dance but, would you like to?” 

She lingers at the hand, tracing the scars on the palm, and wonders for a moment if it was best to decline. Her musing lasts for a second because she finds her hand reaching out to grasp his own. They were a scene in a play and there was something outside her control that pulls the strings. 

He pulls her in and at the same time she ushers herself towards him as she says, “I have two left feet, so you lead, ok?” A simple statement, as it is, but there was a ring of a bell; a moment of deja vu. 

She smiles, anyway, and it’s genuine. They share a look.

“Yea sure. Whatever.” 

And a series of events happened at once. They dance, twirling around the ballroom as their conversation blooms along with their feelings.

“I’m from Death City.”

“Oh, I just arrived here. Ran away from home.” 

“Oh. My home left me and I had to find someplace else in Death City. But that was years ago.”

They exchange small anecdotes of their lives, giggling over the randomest nonsense and sharing the deepest heartfelt experiences all in the same night. From the heated gazes of crimson and veridian, from the subtle grips on the shoulders and their hands, she feels her soul brush against Soul’s. There seemed to be a familiar vibe around him. Around them. As though they had done this some dreams ago, may a lifetime ago even. 

The Soul that she has come to learn now becomes tangible. Someone who grew up in a family with old royalty, with a weapon bloodline clandestine and forgotten among the family members. Someone who decided to carve his own future instead of the path built on his parent’s expectations. Someone who has a name, a face, with experiences. Someone she’d want to meet someday. 

This surreality baffles her, as she realizes that this came from her own Soul Perception. Just how masks she’s seen, how far her Soul Perception stretches and lapses, and the many times her soul merges with Soul’s… it’s bizarre. She wonders if this Soul right here might be her potential partner.

It all ends however, for time is static and powers have their limits. The end begins where their dance stops. Gradually, she feels the energy ebbing away from her body. At the precipice, she finally slunks down, body almost hitting the floor, when Soul catches her in his arms. The walls rumble, and the people around them have cracks in their skin as though they were made of marble.

She looks up at Soul and she finds a large crack on his face, through one of his eyes, past his nose, and at the edge of his jaw. She lifts a hand to it but falters midway as tiredness sweeps into her mind, begging her to stop the process. Everything else is falling apart as the shards of this dream fall apart into dust.

“Look for me when this is over, okay?” Half of his face is gone and all that’s left are those dark crimson eyes.

“Yea. Okay.”

And then there was nothing. 

 

 

Maka wakes up to sunlight flooding her sheets and finds her body laid down on soft cushion. Groggily, she pushes herself out of bed and looks through the window where the laughing sun overcasts the entire Death City. Her memory rewinds to the events that occured the night before, and she can only nitpick those dark melodies, ballroom dances, and a person who goes by the name Soul. 

Soul Eater Evans.

She’s finally able to tap in her memories of her Soul Perception. Although wary of how she’ll progress here on then, she’s a step ahead. Just needs a little more practice. 

The elated surreality from last night dwindled into planning out the tasks for today, and reviewing for tomorrow’s quiz. Today is the day unpartnered weapons and meisters meet and greet. She isn’t sure how it’ll go but there’s a small ounce of certainty that maybe she’ll find her partner there.

But until then, she prepares herself for the day ahead of her. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey again! If you want to chat about anything, check out my tumble and/or twitter @ellipsesarefun


End file.
